


Sock and Jonathan are Dorks for an Entire Week

by LadyFeb29



Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: Custom AU, Favorite song, Fireworks, Future, Lots of Cuddling, M/M, Sockathan Week, Summer, matching outfits, sometimes kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFeb29/pseuds/LadyFeb29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles (??) for the Sockathan week prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sockathan week, everyone :D
> 
> Day 1: Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan introduces Sock to his family's Independence Day traditions.

Sock was surprised, when he floated into Jonathan’s bedroom at 8 AM, to see the teenager already awake and dressed. He was standing over a duffel bag on his bed, counting off something on his fingers. Creeping up behind the blond, Sock sucked in a deep breath, prepared his scream, and--

“Don’t even try it.” 

Deflating, Sock pouted as Jonathan turned to face him. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I could physically feel the room become dumber when you came in.” Jonathan zipped up the bag and slung it over his shoulder, heading out the door. Sock rushed after him, still a bit confused.

“What’s got you up so early, hot stuff?” While eight in the morning wasn’t unusual for the school year, it was downright abnormal for Jonathan during the summer. Once, back in June, Sock had tried waking Jonathan up at 7:30. It hadn’t ended well, especially for the poor innocent CD case that got thrown at the wall. 

“You don’t know what day it is?” Jonathan lowered his voice as he walked down the stairs into the kitchen, which meant his parents were still in the house. 

“Um, maybe? It’s the fourth, right?”

“Of?”

“Jul--Oh! It’s Independence Day!” Sock zipped over to the wall calendar to find that, indeed, today’s date was highlighted in red. 

Jonathan dumped the duffel bag on the floor before rummaging through the cabinets for breakfast. “Unbelievable.”

“Don’t blame me! We don’t have calendars down in Hell. Apparently, Mephistopheles doesn’t ‘believe’ in them.” Sock plopped down on the countertop to watch Jonathan chew his way through a cereal bar. Seeing Jonathan eat was always a little distracting--what with the way his jaw moved, and the way his Adams Apple bobbed when he swallowed, and oh dear Jonathan had said something. Shit.

“Uh, what? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.” 

Jonathan rolled his eyes and crunched the wrapper of his breakfast into a tiny ball. “Never mind. Stupid question.”

The two boys spent the next fifteen minutes sitting in the kitchen, Sock chattering away and Jonathan trying to make as few responses as possible. By 8:20, Sock noticed Jonathan’s knee bouncing a little too much, a little too fast. He tried glancing meaningfully towards it, to no avail. Finally, he just stopped talking--that, at least, caught Jonathan’s attention--and pointed downwards. 

Sighing harshly, Jonathan hopped down off the counter and leaned out the doorway into the living room. “Mom!”

There was a loud whump, and then, “What?”

“I thought we supposed to be leaving by now!”

“Oh, well.” Jonathan’s mother appeared in the doorway, folding a t-shirt as she walked. “Your father forgot to start his laundry last night, and now he has no clean underwear.” Sock giggled, and Jonathan shot a brief glare in his direction. “So now we’re trying to get all that done and we’re running behind schedule.” 

Jonathan’s shoulders slumped, and he retreated to his seat next to Sock on the counter. “So now what?” Sock raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Was it possible that Mr. Apathetic was...disappointed about something?

“Well, you know, honey,” Jonathan’s mom draped the shirt over her arm, “you could drive up by yourself in your car, if you wanted. You know the way, right?”

The immediate change in demeanor was almost scary. “Yeah. Yeah! I can do that.” He practically leapt back off the counter, dashed for his keys, and scooped his bag up off the floor. “Later!”

“I’ll text you when we leave!”

Sock hurried after his counterpart, barely making it through the front door before it slammed shut. He did, however have to phase through the passenger side of the car, settling down on the seat as Jonathan turned the ignition. “Where are we going?”

Jonathan jumped, harshly. He swatted uselessly at the air Sock occupied as the Demon snickered. “Who said you were coming?”

“Uh, you did. Just now.” Jonathan rolled his eyes, plugging in his phone to the AUX port and starting up his music. 

“Whatever. Just don’t be too annoying, please? It’s an hour drive.”

“To where?”

“My aunt has a cabin next to Lake Weston.” Jonathan put the car in reverse, turning back to look out the rear window. In doing so, he always draped his right arm across the passenger seat, and Sock always pretended that he didn’t try to lean back, try to touch. Once out on the street, Jonathan continued. “And we always go up for the Fourth.”

“Oh, is that what you’re excited about?” Sock couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. Seriously? A lake? That’s what had Jonathan all hyped up?

Jonathan stepped on the gas. “Hell yes.” 

\------

The drive to the lake was pleasant enough, if a little warm (the air conditioning in Jonathan’s car had never really worked that well, after all), and by the time they were on the right highway Jonathan had relaxed a bit. 

Driving with Jonathan was one of Sock’s favorite things to do, truth be told. For someone with a one-year-old licence, he was surprisingly confident on the road. He always played music, too, and although Sock didn’t always like the songs, he loved watching Jonathan listen to them. Sometimes, the blond would hum along, and on occasion, he would even sing, softly, under his breath. Even though he’d never heard it properly, Sock could tell that Jonathan had an amazing singing voice--deeper than when he was speaking, and smooth as silk. 

Today was no exception. And he got to do it for an entire hour. 

If Sock wasn’t already a Demon, he might’ve been in Heaven. 

And to top it all off, Jonathan was still in his oddly good mood. Sock knew he couldn’t really expect Jonathan’s full attention while the other was driving, but the attention he did get today was more than usual. Jonathan even asked him a few questions about himself, about what he used to do for holidays. They exchanged stories about traditions (Jonathan seemed a bit disturbed by Sock’s insistence that slaughtering and cooking a hog was the only proper way to do a family gathering), the food they liked to eat, their favorite memories. Jonathan described, in detail, how one Independence Day, they’d accidentally set the neighbor’s lawn on fire. The punchline being that the neighbor didn’t even notice the blaze, nor the people frantically climbing over his fence with cups of water. 

It took a while--almost 45 minutes into the drive--but Sock finally figured out why his dead heart was skipping around in his chest so much.

Jonathan was smiling. At him. With him.

When they got to the cabin, Sock was amazingly underwhelmed. From the back, where they parked, it looked more like a shack loosely surrounded by a fence. Inside the fence were a few tents, and Sock inwardly groaned. Lots of people meant zero attention from Jonathan, unless he did something really annoying, and then Jonathan would get mad at him and ignore him on purpose.

Not that he was clingy or anything. Nope.

Sock followed Jonathan out of the car and down the gravel driveway, currently filled with vehicles, and then through a small, rickety fence. It appeared that Jonathan hadn’t quite forgotten Sock’s presence, since he held the gate open a few extra seconds so Sock could zip through without any phasing. 

From there, it was a few meters down a tiny stone path, up a few steps, a right turn onto a porch and--

Wow. Okay. 

Apparently the cabin was so small because 90% of the property was yard.

Sock paused, taking in the view before him. The cabin actually sat at the top of a very tall hill, and the lawn stretched out all the way to the retaining wall, just in front of the beach. A makeshift sidewalk made up of wood pallets zigzagged down the slope. And beyond that, the lake stretched out in an inky blot of blue-green. 

It was all rather impressive, if not very pretty. 

“Hey!” Sock turned around, looking for the source of the hissed syllable, only to find Jonathan standing impatiently with the front door cracked open. “C’mon!” 

Floating through the doorway ahead of Jonathan, Sock tried not to smile too much. He could get used to this whole ‘holding doors open like a gentleman’ side of Jonathan. He shouldn’t, but he could.

Once inside, Sock hovered close to the ceiling while Jonathan was accosted by his relatives. How the hell did they fit all these people into such a small kitchen? 

Sock noticed that Jonathan’s previous good mood had dimmed a bit upon entering the cabin. He was quickly retreating back into his shell in the face of questions about school and how old are you this year and I think you’ve grown since I last saw you. Eventually, he managed to squirm his way to the counter, snag a danish from a pastry box, and walk quickly further back into the house. Following his charge, Sock stopped short next to Jonathan.

Holy hell. That was a lot of fireworks. 

It was a tiny, cool room just off the main hallway, and it was absolutely filled with explosives. Not a single inch of the carpeting was visible underneath loudly printed boxes and shopping bags filled bottle rockets and snaps and other things Sock couldn’t identify. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Jonathan murmured as he finished off his danish, licking icing off his fingers and looking rather smug.

“I, uh. I guess?” Sock floated out over the stash. It had to be two feet deep in some places. “What’re you gonna do with all this?”

Jonathan sat down on the floor and pulled a bag over, shifting through the contents. “Blow it up.” His tone was meant to be casual, but Sock detected a hint of glee underneath the words. He narrowed his eyes and drifted up close to Jonathan’s face. 

“This is what you’ve been excited about today.”

“Well, yeah.” Lifting a pack of bottle rockets out of the bag, Jonathan held them up for Sock to inspect. “Didn’t you set off fireworks on the Fourth?”

Sock glanced over the package. What was so special about it? “Uh, no, actually.”

That caught Jonathan’s attention. He looked straight up into Sock’s face, incredulous. “Seriously? You’ve never set off a firework?”

Sock thought back to all the Fourth of Julys before he died. “Uhm, maybe a smoke bomb? When I was in elementary school.”

Jonathan shook his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable.” Standing back up, he took the bag with him to a door nearby, opening it to reveal the pine tree on the other side of the porch. “You are one weird kid.”

Floating outside, Sock opened his mouth to reply when, from inside, a woman’s voice rang out. “Jonathan! No fireworks until after ten!”

“I know! I’m just getting ready!” With that, he let the door slam shut behind him.

“Getting ready for what?” Sock asked as Jonathan tramped down the hill to a pipe sticking up out of the dirt. The blond pulled a lighter out of his jeans, setting out the punk and ripping open the package of bottle rockets.

“Tradition.” Jonathan smirked, looking at his phone for the time. “Fifteen minutes.” The glint of gleeful determination in the blond’s eyes send a jolt of sparks down below the waistband of Sock’s pants. He swallowed heavily.

“What?”

“You’re gonna help me wake up the neighbors.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and gdi now I wanna write a human au where Jonathan teaches Sock how to set off fireworks and all his relatives grill Sock b/c they think he's Jon's boyfriend but then they actually become boyfriends EFF MY LIFE I DONT HAVE TIME 4 THIS


	2. Amusement Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan has marriage on his mind. Not by choice, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, Human AU! Because no one can get into Disney without paying admission. Not even you, Sock.
> 
> Disneyland is more a theme park than an amusement park but I Actually Do Not Care (that's a lie I care a lot help). 
> 
> This turned out a lot more sappy than I expected.

“It’s a small world after all!”

“Stop.”

“It’s a small world after all!”

“Seriously. Shut up.”

“It’s a smaaaaaall, smaaaaaall woooooooorld!”

“Shut your mouth or I will shut it for you.”

“Jonathan.” Sock placed a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “You are the least threatening thing in this entire park. Stop while you’re ahead.” 

  
Jonathan rolled his eyes as Sock moved his hand down into the crook of his arm, clinging to him as they waded through the crowds of late-May Disneyland. It wasn’t really the way he’d wanted to spend the last day before flying back home, but Sock had been very persuasive.

  
He should never have told Sock about his thing for lingerie. It could only be used for evil.

Feeling his hoodie pocket vibrate, Jonathan flipped out his phone and checked the text from his dad. Apparently he was feeling very bored with the Hollywood Walk of Fame, from the number of messages he’d sent in the last hour.

This couldn’t even really be considered a vacation, but his mom had decided to treat it as one. In reality, they’d come out to California on business; said business being attending his cousin’s wedding. When they’d gotten the invitation in the mail, Sock was over for dinner and was immediately invited as Jonathan’s plus-one. Actually, Jonathan was still a little bitter over that. Sure, he would’ve asked in the end anyway, but he didn’t need his mother to get his date for him.

In fact, Sock coming on this trip was practically a given. He and Jonathan had been dating for seven months, after all, and they were moving in together in August. Jonathan’s relatives had heard all about Sock--again, thanks, mom--and all of his aunts were jumping at the chance to meet him. They were eerily captivated with the tale of how the two boys had met and subsequently started going out. (Sock was a freshman in college and sat with senior-in-highschool Jonathan during a campus tour. He’d left at the end of the hour leaving behind a very sexually confused teenager and his phone number. They’d started dating two months later.)

And now that they’d met Sock, they were all over Jonathan, asking when he was going to bring the older boy into the family for good. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered him much--just aunts being aunts--but then his mom started crying at the reception, and when he asked her about it she said:

“Oh, I’m just thinking about what it will be like when you and Sock get married.” And then she blew her nose into one of the cheap purple napkins.

It was seriously ridiculous. He was only eighteen, for crying out loud! He’d just graduated from high school! So what if he was already moving in with his boyfriend? It didn’t actually mean anything!

Well, okay, it did mean something. It meant he was going to improve Sock’s taste in both movies and music, and also probably buy more condoms.

But in the meantime, Sock had dragged him to Disneyland, and then started singing that dumb song, which really should’ve been grounds for a break-up. Why was he putting up with this again?

“Jonathan, can we take a picture quick? It’s for my mom, she keeps asking if I’m okay.” Sock held up his phone for Jonathan to take. Compared to Sock’s mother, Jonathan’s mom was practically a saint when it came to leaving the two boys alone together. It wasn’t surprising that she was asking for pictorial evidence that her son was alright. Hell, on their first date Sock had had to put his phone on silent just to ignore all her pestering texts.

“Fine, fine.” Jonathan raised the phone and made an effort to not look completely surly, while Sock practically beamed into the camera. Photo taken, he handed the phone back to Sock, who immediately sent it.

“Thanks, hot stuff.” Sock bounced up onto his toes, pecking Jonathan on the cheek. “You choose the next ride?”

Oh, right. That was why.

\------

“You know, roller coasters are surprisingly deadly.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, 52 deaths in 15 years.”

“Have you actually looked this up?”

“Yep! I did it after I heard about this guy who died because he climbed a fence into a roller coaster area--”

“Sock.”

“--and the car came along and just.” Sock snapped his fingers together. “Tore his head off.”

“Sock, you’re gonna scare the five-year-olds.”

“Jonathan, I doubt any five-year-olds are tall enough to ride this.”

“Okay, they’re like, ten. Still.” Jonathan shot a wary glance over his shoulder at the family standing in line behind them for Space Mountain. They’d been in line for at least half an hour, but their turn was finally coming up. The closer they got to the boarding platform, the more Sock started babbling, which a sure sign that he was nervous. That, in addition to the solid grip Sock had on Jonathan’s right hand and the sudden turn to the macabre had the blond a little worried. He detangled his hand from Sock’s and draped an arm over the smaller boy’s shoulders, pulling him a little closer.

Sighing, Sock relaxed, marginally, into the touch. “Sorry. Can’t remember the last time I was on a roller coaster.”

“Space Mountain hardly qualifies as a ‘roller coaster’, man.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure the roller coaster I rode was a kiddie one at the state fair. And I cried the entire time.”

“What, can you not handle anything that goes faster than .5 miles an hour?”

“...Maybe.”

“Wait. Is that why you were trying to strangle my hand on the plane ride out here?” The rapid nodding from Sock pulled a disbelieving laugh from Jonathan. “Look, you’ll be fine. I’ll be right next to you, and you can strangle my hand all you want.”

That seemed to make Sock feel a bit better, anyway. He shot a nervous smile up at Jonathan. “I just might.” They moved up another few steps, and Jonathan stooped down to plant a quick kiss on Sock’s lips.

Behind them, one of the kids suddenly screeched, “Eeew, they kissed!” While their parents rushed to shush them, Sock looked up at Jonathan with a barely-restrained grin and a suggestively raised eyebrow. Jonathan smirked, liking the way Sock thought. Without missing a beat, he pulled Sock in for a prolonged smooch.

“EEEEEEEWWW!”

They didn’t even have time to pull back before both of them were dying in shakes of silent laughter.

\------

“I can’t believe I let you do that to me.” Sock slumped down against Jonathan’s shoulder, still shaking. The ride had gone off without a hitch, without any fatalities. Except Jonathan’s poor fingers, which had just about been crushed barely ten seconds into the ride.

“Well, at least now you can say you did it.” The two boys were sitting outside the ride complex, waiting for Sock’s breathing to even out again after screaming for three minutes straight.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching people walking past and the line slowly creeping forward. Slowly, Jonathan felt Sock start to relax, and he was about to suggest finding some lunch when a couple walked by, wearing matching groom-and-bride mouse ears. Sock’s eyes followed them until they disappeared into a shop; Jonathan watched Sock for just as long.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” Sock turned back to his boyfriend, expectantly. Jonathan sucked in a deep breath, bit his lip, and prayed he wouldn’t regret asking this.

“What do you think about getting married?”

Shrugging, Sock settled back down against Jonathan’s arm. “Someday. Not right now.” Suddenly, he shot back up, a dusting of pink flushing his cheeks. “Unless that was a proposal, in which case, yes. Hell yes.”

Jonathan shrugged, nerves clogging up his speech. “Well. Y’know. Just, something to keep in mind. Maybe.”

Scooting towards the edge of the bench, Sock slid his hand easily into Jonathan’s. “All right. I will.” Standing up, he tugged Jonathan along towards a food cart. “C’mon! I’ll buy you a celebratory pre-Engagement Churro!”

“What the hell is--oh, never mind.” Jonathan let himself be dragged along behind his boyfriend (fiance? Pre-fiance?).

\------  
“Actually, you’re probably gonna kill me.”

“Why?” Jonathan finished off the last piece of his churro and tossed the wrapper into the trash.

“...I kinda want to go on Space Mountain again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sock's favorite ride turns out to be The Pirates of the Caribbean, in the end. Jonathan swears if he has to hear 'A Pirate's Life for Me' one more time he's going to snap.


	3. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sock and Jonathan debate the merits of summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty short because I had a hard day at work yesterday
> 
> It was hard because I had to weed thistles
> 
> You can guess whose side I'm on in the pro/con summer debate

“Are you even gonna get out of bed today?”

Jonathan sighed and stretched out on his bed, kicking off the remainder of his sheets. “Not really planning on it.” For the last two hours, he had switched between dozing and watching his personal demon practicing backflips near the ceiling. He dimly recalled his mother coming in before she left for work, closing his window and turning on his fan. It was supposed to get into the 80s today, with high humidity. A perfect day to stay inside with the air conditioning. 

Groaning, Sock dropped down from his aerial perch to sprawl on the sheets next to Jonathan. He settled silently next to the blond, not doing much more damage than rustling the fabric of the blankets. If Sock had been alive, Jonathan probably would’ve pushed him off the bed--too many bodies in too little space while it was too warm--but since he was not, Jonathan let him lay. 

“C’mon, Jonathan! You can’t just stay inside all summer.”

“Oh, yes I can.”

Sock hauled himself up onto his elbows and leaned over to face Jonathan. Again, he only stayed because he had negligible body heat. Definitely the only reason. Not because Jonathan liked having him this close, where he could see the faint outlines of freckles on the demon’s cheeks and the smooth green of his eyes. 

Definitely not.

In the meantime, Sock had kept talking. “But summer’s such a great season! I love summer!” Jonathan was about to speak up and point out that summer was an absolute bitch when Sock continued. “Oh, but spring is good too. And I really like fall, since that’s when my birthday is. Was. Hm.” Sock scrunched up his face in contemplation. “Actually, I think I like all the seasons.”

“I kinda figured.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Here, Sock tried his best to look indignant, but just ended up pouting. It was oddly adorable.  
“Just that you seem like the kind of person who’s happy in every kind of weather.” Jonathan turned onto his side, facing Sock full-on. “Have you ever tried thinking about all the bad things about summer? ‘Cause there are a lot of them.”

“Oh, yeah? Hit me with one.”

Pointing towards the window, Jonathan smirked. “Heat. Humidity.”

“Air conditioning.” Sock gestured towards Jonathan’s open bedroom door, where a cool draft was blowing in, and stuck out his tongue when the blond rolled his eyes. 

“Well, there’s no A/C outside, so.”

“So, you can go swimming!”

“I hate swimming.”

“You hate everything.”

“True.” Jonathan fell onto his back again, secretly satisfied when Sock flopped down onto his chest. The demon’s body didn’t emit any heat, but the pressure was nice. Their faces were close, and Jonathan lowered his voice to fit the distance. “I dunno, summer just kinda sucks. It’s hot, and humid, and there are mosquitos--”

“Okay, I’ll concede the mosquito thing.”

“--and thistles and wasps. Wasps in the thistles while I’m trying to weed.”

“Since when did you weed anything?”

From down the hall, Jonathan heard the bathroom door swing open. Whispering low, he murmured “Wait for it…” Not ten seconds later, his father stuck his head through the doorway, adjusting his baseball cap. 

“Oh, you are up. I’m gonna head out here, soon. Be back sometime this evening. Short run.” As a truck driver, Jonathan’s father had an irregular schedule--sometimes, he would leave for a week, and other times, like today, he’d just run products across town all day. Nodding, Jonathan watched Sock’s face out of the corner of his eye for what was coming next. “By the way, Jon, your mom wants you to pull the weeds out of the flowerbed in the back. Try to do that before she gets home, kay?”

“I’ll try.” Jonathan replied, noncommittally. He was much more interested in the look of near-disbelief on Sock’s face. When his father had descended the steps to the kitchen, Jonathan turned back to the demon laying on his chest. “See?”

Sock huffed in annoyance, then brightened up. “There’s no school! That’s good, right?”

Bending his knees so Sock subtly shifted forward, Jonathan shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“And there’s ice cream!”

“But grape popsicles.” 

“Grape is the best flavor, Jonathan. Something’s wrong with you, I swear.” 

“Well, then, you can have all the grape popsicles and I’ll enjoy all the good flavors.”

“Jonathan, I can’t eat.”

“Then why the hell did you bring up food?” The blond smirked as Sock groaned in frustration and smacked his face down onto Jonathan’s chest. Slowly, he started bringing up one of his hands from its place on the sheet, moving it to rest softly against Sock’s side. Lately, the two boys had been able to touch without much trouble. Jonathan didn’t want to think about why that might be, and if it had anything to do with the tightness he got in his chest whenever Sock smiled. “Anything else in summer’s favor?”

“Hmm.” Turning his head to one side, Sock bit his lip gently in thought. Jonathan tried and failed not to stare at the pull of skin under teeth. “Oh! There’s roadkill!”

This time it was Jonathan’s time to express disbelief. “Sock, that’s generally not a positive.”

“Says you.” Sock started swinging his feet back and forth, reminiscing. “I remember, one time, my parents and I went to Alaska and saw a dead moose on the highway. It was so cool!” The swinging abruptly stopped. “Dad wouldn’t pull over to let me take a picture, though.”

“...I wonder why.”

“Right? Like, it’s not every day you see a moose corpse!”

Jonathan just rolled his eyes and settled his other hand onto the middle of Sock’s back. “Anyway. You’ve been to Alaska?”

That sent Sock on a long, rambling tangent about how, yes, he’d been to Alaska and it was so awesome and he’d even seen Denali without clouds once! And then he listed off all the types of dead animals he’d seen, from the moose to bighorn sheep to rotting fish that he’d poked with a stick on the shores of a river. The constant stream of babble lulled Jonathan into relaxation, and before he knew it, he was drowsy again. 

Sock was in the middle of recounting a particular hill they’d seen--something called the Suicide Slope that had a near-vertical descent--when Jonathan sleepily interrupted him. 

“I like spending all day with you.”

Stopping short, Sock stuttered for a few seconds before he managed to spit out, “But we’re not even doing anything?”

“We’re talking. That’s enough.” He shifted his hands until they touched, completely encircling Sock in his arms. With that, he lay back and closed his eyes, dozing.

Sock, in the meantime, was left trapped and blushing on Jonathan’s chest. Burying his face into Jonathan’s t-shirt, he mumbled, mostly to himself, “Dammit.”


	4. Favorite Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sock deleted all of Jonathan's music from his phone, but Jon gets his revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These aren't really my 'favorite' songs, since I don't really have one! But I do really like the songs used in this fic. Yes, they're all on the Shrek OST.

Jonathan groaned, rubbing groggily at his eyes and leaning back in his desk chair. Glancing at the clock drew another strangled sound from his throat. Three in the fucking morning. He’d been at this for two hours and wasn’t even close to being done. 

When he’d found out that Sock could possess things and people, part of him had been afraid that the demon would take the opportunity to indulge his ‘homicidal tendencies’, as he called them. As it turned out, though, the little shit had decided to do something much, much worse.

At midnight, Jonathan had gone to bed, plugging in his headphones to listen to his music. Only to find that all of his albums were gone. And at that point, he dimly recalled that there was a half-hour window of time this afternoon that he really couldn’t account for. 

This was how he’d ended up awake and frustrated at three AM, struggling to recall which songs he’d moved over to his phone from his computer and which ones he’d have to re-download entirely. 

“Whatcha doin’, hot stuff?”

Jonathan jolted, nearly toppling out of his chair. By the time he righted himself, Sock was curled up into a floating ball, trembling with laughter.

“Oh my--you should’ve seen your face!” Sock continued to giggle while Jonathan scowled. He swiped at the demon, fingers catching a bit inside his form. Sometimes, Sock was just about tangible, a few steps short of being solid. Other times, like now, his hand would slip through--similar to dragging his hand through water. 

“You little shit,” Jonathan hissed. “Don’t fuck with my phone! And especially don’t fuck with my music!”

“Oh, c’mon.” Sock drifted down, finally settling his feet on the floor. He leaned over and poked at the touchpad of Jonathan’s laptop. “I left some music on there!” Shooing Sock’s hand away, Jonathan searched through the files showing up from his phone. Apps, photos, downloads, why was Sock leaning up against his shoulder? Through the fabric of his t-shirt, he could feel the dull hills of Sock’s ribs, the shifting of muscles underneath skin as Sock lifted up one arm to sling casually around Jonathan’s shoulders. 

“Ah! There it is.” Sock jabbed a finger close to the screen, pointing out one folder in particular. Jonathan rolled his eyes at the title, unable to stop the flush of pink creeping up his ears. 

“‘Hey Cutie’? Really?”

“What? It’s true!” Jonathan pursed his lips together as he felt a hand run through his hair, from the nape of his neck to the crown of his skull. It sent shivers down his spine, although he wasn’t about to admit it. Sock had been getting pretty touchy-feely lately, taking advantage of his increasing physicality to bother the blond.

Well, more accurately, making him hot and bothered. He could swear, sometimes, that Sock just didn’t know about the effect his touches had, especially when they started bordering on the sexual. One time, he’d plopped down onto Jonathan’s lap while he was sitting on the couch, straddling his hips and purposely draping his limbs in all directions to trap his charge against the cushions. Jonathan had woken up early the next morning very sticky and very confused as to why he was dreaming about Sock in thigh-highs. 

In the meantime, Jonathan double-clicked on the folder, revealing its contents. From the way Sock was trembling in anticipation, he assumed he was supposed to have a big reaction or something. Instead, he just rolled his eyes again and looked up into Sock’s face, unimpressed.

“The Shrek soundtrack? Really?”

Visibly deflating, Sock started pouting. “What? No response?”

Jonathan shrugged, opening the file to the track listing. “Not really. And you didn’t need to go through all the trouble of getting it onto my phone. I already have it on my computer.” He scanned over the song titles, idly dragging the cursor along. “I used to listen to this thing all the time in like, fourth grade.”

“Really? Why?”

“...I had a phase.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the one who had good taste in music.” Sock removed his feet from the floor, floating up just enough to perch on the edge of Jonathan’s desk. 

“I am the one with good taste in music.” Reaching over to his bedside table, Jonathan snagged his earbuds, plugging them in and putting one in his ear. He offered the other to Sock, who took it slowly, looking dubious. “It’s not that bad, I swear.” 

“If you say so.” Sock slid the piece into place, and Jonathan hit shuffle, then play on number six, keeping an eye on the demon. The beginning of this song was rather quiet, and Sock readjusted the bud, confused. 

When the guitar kicked in, loud, Sock jumped, and this time it was Jonathan’s turn to snicker while Sock smacked his arm. 

The song played on while Jonathan resumed his hunt for the appropriate music to put on his phone. Sock was still sitting on his desk, swinging his legs in time to the beat. “I guess it’s not that bad.” 

“See? Good taste.” Jonathan brushed his bangs off his forehead, huffing out a frustrated sigh. Had he put Ultraviolence on his phone or not? 

“Oh, that one was on there! I actually listened to a one of the songs. It was pretty good.” With that, Sock was back on his feet, leaning over to look at the computer screen and totally blocking Jonathan’s view.

“Oh for--sit down.” Jonathan scooted his chair back a few inches and pulled on Sock’s arm, dragging the smaller boy onto his lap. It was awkward--a little too close to a repeat of the incident on the couch--but in this position, at least they could both see the screen properly. 

“Uh, Jonathan?”

“Alright, what else did you delete, you little turd?” Jonathan copied and pasted the album into the music folder on his phone, trying to ignore the reflection of Sock’s blushing face straining to hold back a grin. 

They’d gotten another album transferred when the music switched over. Number ten. The piano intro was familiar and comforting, and Jonathan started softly humming, resting his head in the crook of Sock’s neck. Usually, the demon didn’t emit much in the way of heat, but now, his skin was warm and flushed, drawing Jonathan further in. When the lyrics began, he quietly breathed the words next to Sock’s cheek, selecting another folder and copying it over. 

It was amazing how easily he recalled the words of the song from memory; it had been over a year since he last heard it. Back then, he’d been alone and sang along at full volume, surprised by how smoothly his vocal chords had run out every syllable, every note. Even now, unable to really sing properly (for fear of waking his parents up), his voice barely hitched. He’d have been impressed with himself if he wasn’t absorbed in watching Sock out of the corner of his eye. His face was blotchy red, eyes resolutely looking anywhere but at Jonathan’s faint reflection on the laptop. 

During a short instrumental break, Sock raised a finger and poked again at the screen. “That one.” His voice was barely anything above a whisper, rasping and scratchy with some emotion Jonathan didn’t take the time to analyze. 

The room was silent for a moment, the only sound Jonathan’s breath and the tapping of his fingers against the touchpad. Eventually, the lyrics ended, and the blond sighed. He felt Sock shudder faintly against his body. 

He wasn’t sure, later, what he was going to say at that moment--maybe another comment about his good taste in music, or something about how Sock kind of looked like a tomato, and how it was ridiculously adorable--but what mattered was that Sock turned at about the same time as Jonathan did, and--

Their mouths collided, ungracefully and a bit painfully, for only a few seconds. It was enough to send a hot flush over Jonathan’s cheeks, which was nothing compared to the bright red of Sock’s face. The demon shot backwards, almost falling off the chair and onto the floor before catching himself in a float. He stuttered, trying to say something, and ended up stammering out “I--I need. To, uh. I gotta go.” With that, he tried to fly straight up through the ceiling, only to get caught on the wire of the earbuds, pulling Jonathan along with him, squawking in surprise and pain. “Sorry! Sorry!” The demon yanked the piece out of his ear, tossed it at Jonathan’s face, and made a hasty escape. 

The song ended as Jonathan raised a hand up to his lips, still stinging from the surprise assault, and switched over. 

Track two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Key (referenced as track numbers in the fic):
> 
> Track 6: Bad Reputation by Joan Jett  
> Track 10: Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright  
> Track 2: I'm a Believer by Smashmouth


	5. Matching Outfits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sock wants to show Jonathan this neat trick he just learned! Jonathan is more aroused than amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some vague nsfw at the very end; not enough to up the rating though.
> 
> Sock is a total fashionista and I really want to draw his outfits.

Sock drifted slowly through Jonathan’s closet, studying the array of clothes haphazardly hung on hangers and sprawled across the floor. In all the cloth he could see, there was only one color other than grey, black, or white, and that was purple. Even then, it was part of the logo on a band t-shirt. Shaking his head in disappointment, he floated back out into Jonathan’s bedroom, where said teenager was just flopping down onto the bed, hair still dripping from his shower. He’d learned, after a rather embarrassing incident involving a towel wrapped too loosely around his waist and a very red-faced demon, that it was better to at least put his boxers on in the bathroom. Today, they were a grey and blue plaid, and Sock eyed them, pouting, before perking up and flying over. 

“Hey, Jonathan!” Sock hovered over the bed, directly in Jonathan’s line of sight. “Wanna see a new trick I learned?”

“So long as it doesn’t involve blood, sure.” Jonathan hauled himself up, walking casually over to his dresser. As he opened the top drawer and pulled out a tank top, he heard a soft poof behind him. 

Turning around was like looking straight into the sun. 

“What in the name of Christ are you wearing?” Jonathan squinted at the ensemble Sock had apparently changed into while yanking the shirt over his head. The demon was wearing a bright yellow tunic, very short and covered with blue flowers. Underneath, he could just see the tattered edges of jean shorts. From there, it was a long journey down Sock’s legs to neon pink flats. 

Sock’s legs were actually pretty nice. So nice, they planted a seed of dread in Jonathan. He was gonna dream about them tonight, wasn’t he? It was bad enough that he’d woken up this morning feeling all mushy inside because he’d dreamt about kissing Sock at a Valhalla Soundbox concert. 

“This is one of my favorite outfits to wear during the summer!” Sock twirled a bit, letting the hem of the tunic float up, revealing the shorts underneath, as well as a little sliver of his stomach. Jonathan swallowed, hard, tugging down his own tank top. “How do I look?”

“Uh.” Adorable? Cute? Pretty? “Okay, I guess.” Jonathan scooped up the towel he’d been using for his hair and tossed it into his laundry hamper. “Weren’t you gonna show me a trick, or something?”

The demon huffed, crossing his arms and pacing up to Jonathan. This close, the blond could see the clear ridges of Sock’s collarbones, and he forced his eyes back up to Sock’s face. “This is the trick! I can change my clothes now!”

Jonathan rolled his eyes as Sock continued pivoting back and forth and grinning like a loon. “So what?”

“So I can show off my awesome style now!” With another poof, he changed clothes again, this time a purple dress over cargo shorts. His hat was gone, and Sock’s hair was free to stick up in all directions. 

“Pff. Whatever you say, man.” Jonathan scoffed, shuffling into his flip-flops and plopping down in his desk chair. Even with the air conditioner on, it was too warm to put on any more clothing. His skin started crawling at the very thought of putting on his shorts. 

Sock floated over and hopped up onto the edge of Jonathan’s desk. “Oh, please. It’s not like you’re exactly a fashion icon.” He shoved a hand through his hair, trying to flatten out some of the cowlicks. “At least I have fun with my wardrobe!”

“What? I have fun with what I wear.” Even as he said it, Jonathan knew Sock would call his bluff. He didn’t have any sense of style whatsoever, and thus stuck to what he knew: shorts, jeans, t-shirts. 

“Yeah right.” Sock changed his clothes again with another poof and this time Jonathan felt his mouth run dry. 

This one was simpler than the last two--a dark blue, tight fitting t-shirt and black shorts with neon stripes down the sides. His feet were swinging gently against the side of Jonathan’s desk in black flip-flops with cherries on them. “I like that one.” Immediately, he snapped his mouth shut. Fuck, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

Sock looked about as startled as Jonathan felt, one of his feet paused in mid-swing. Slowly, he let it fall and smiled, uncertainly. “Um. Thanks?” Standing up, he gestured for Jonathan to turn his chair around. “Actually, I wanna try something. I think you’ll like it.” 

Cocking an eyebrow, Jonathan turned around, giving Sock a clear view of his front. Concentrating for a few minutes, Sock flexed his hands and whispered, “Okay.” Another poof, and oh god.

Sock was standing in the middle of Jonathan’s room wearing a loose white tank top and grey and blue plaid boxers. “What.”

“Huh.” Sock picked at the cloth of the shirt, examining it carefully. “Well, your clothes are comfy. I’ll give you that.”

Through the dry panic that choked his throat, Jonathan managed to reply, “That’s kinda the point.” Looking closer, he recognized a tiny stain near the hem of the tank top. “Holy shit. Is that actually my shirt?”

“Kinda, I think. It’s a replica, but it’s a pretty good one, right?” Looking up for confirmation, he watched Jonathan nod tightly. The top was much too loose and large on Sock’s frame, and Jonathan knew that the boxers were probably the same way, although he couldn’t see the waistband. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Turning back slowly to his desk, he flipped open his laptop. Sock drifted back over and peeked over Jonathan’s shoulder, watching him scroll through his Twitter feed and Youtube subscriptions. After fifteen minutes, Sock slumped down, resting his head on Jonathan’s shoulder. 

“I’m bored.” 

Jonathan rolled his shoulder, pushing Sock off. “Fine, you baby. Movie?”

That brightened Sock up, and he zipped over to the bed, the two boys’ chosen spot for watching Netflix, and flopped down against the wall. Jonathan followed more slowly, unplugging his computer and dragging out his earbuds. They argued for a while over what to watch, finally settling on a horror movie with a 1.5 star rating and a hilariously terrible title. 

An hour and four gruesome deaths later, Sock was leaning against Jonathan’s arm, a pleasant pressure against his side. One of Sock’s hands was curving around Jonathan’s wrist, and the sensation of skin against skin sent gentle tremors up Jonathan’s spine. A quick glance away from the screen told the blond that Sock was still dressed in his clothes, entirely relaxed. Sighing as the main characters again narrowly escaped--Sock always had a tendency to root for the villains--one of the straps of the tank top slid down his shoulder. 

Sock’s skin was smooth and covered in faint freckles; the ridges Jonathan had seen earlier, the dips above his collarbones, stood out starkly. Slowly, Jonathan lifted the hand that Sock was holding onto, much to the demon’s confusion, and wrapped it over Sock’s shoulders. Gently, he yanked the strap back up into place. 

He had to do that a few more times through the next movie they watched (the sequel to the first, which managed, somehow, to be even more ridiculous). Each time, he could swear he saw Sock restraining a devious grin. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t mind.

\------

That night, around eleven, he woke up suddenly, drenched in sweat and kicking at his sheets. Groaning, he rolled off the mattress, reaching down for the waistband of his boxers, now thoroughly sticky with semen. 

In the middle of stripping them off his legs, he stopped short. This image. This image was familiar. 

Wiping himself off, Jonathan slapped the boxers into the laundry basket and pulled out another pair, frustrated. 

He couldn’t just go and have a dream about Sock’s stupid sexy legs in his stupid little shorts. No, he had to have a dream about Sock stripping until he was wearing nothing but Jonathan’s dumb tank top and not much else. 

Letting his head fall back onto the pillow, Jonathan ran a hand through his bangs, unsticking them from his forehead, and released a heavy sigh. “God fucking dammit.”


	6. Custom AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan and Sock are lifeguards at the same pool and become friends during training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late and I am sorry about that :( We've had a heat advisory lately, and it kicked my ass the last few days (read: tried to kill me via heat exhaustion). 
> 
> Anyway, Custom AU! This is what I hope will become a prequel to a series/multi-chapter fic. Sock and Jonathan are lifeguards at a pool :D

Jonathan wasn’t sure he’d have become a guard if he’d known that it involved so much walking.

Providence came on the loudspeaker as the last guard settled into place at chair eleven--no, eight, the numbering was weird on that side. “Okay, guys, that was pretty good! Let’s do one more rotation and then take a break.” Groans of exasperation arose from all around the pool, and Providence snapped, “Oh, shush,” before hanging up the microphone. 

They’d been at this for two days now. Two days of nothing but introductions and maps of the pool and rotations. Of walking from one place to the next. Everyone, Jonathan included, was just on this side of snapping. The only bright spot was that Providence had figured out how to put music on over the speakers. Unfortunately, today was 80’s pop. Go figure that his manager had the same taste in music as his mother. 

Wearily, chair one started walking out to chair two, and Jonathan briefly panicked. He was sitting in three; where the hell was four? Looking to his left, he relaxed a bit. Right, just follow the kid with the weird hair. No problem.

‘Kid with the weird hair’s’ name was actually Sock. He should probably start making an effort to remember his co-workers names. It wasn’t like they were all going to keep the same hairstyles and shirts through the entire summer. Hell, half of the guards were people he’d gone to school with. He tried to run down a list in his head as he climbed down out of three, waited for Zack Melto to get up, and walked to four. Zack, of course, and Lil was their cashier. Then there was Sock, Holly, Erin, Ashley, Tim--or was it Tom?--and some others.

Fuck, he was never going to get this all down. 

At four, he waited for Sock to get up and climb down. Most of the guards disregarded the stairs at the back of the chairs and just hauled themselves up and down with the railing at the front, the side closest to the water, and Sock was in the middle of descending when his foot slipped.

Jonathan didn’t even pause to think. His arms were out immediately, catching the smaller boy awkwardly by the elbow just as he started sucking in air to scream. Releasing the breath in a shaky laugh, Sock regained his footing and patted Jonathan’s arm awkwardly. “Thanks! Now I remember why I don’t do that.” 

Mumbling a “No problem” as Sock waited for him to climb into the chair, Jonathan tried to ignore the giggles coming from the female guard at the top of the slide and the smirk he could feel coming from the general direction of Melto. 

True to word, they finished the rotation--thankfully without any more mishaps--and took a break for dinner. Waiting in line for a slice of pizza (ordered, thoughtfully, by Mephistopheles, the assistant manager), Jonathan surveyed the park. Wester Aquatic Center was the oldest of three pools in the city. It had one slide, one diving board, and over 200,000 gallons of over-chlorinated water sitting on top of a floor of chipping paint and cement. And, for some unholy reason, it was here that Jonathan had decided to work over the summer. 

To be fair, being a lifeguard actually paid pretty well, and he needed the money. He’d graduated from high school just a few weeks ago (with many tears from his mother and general apathy from himself), and wasn’t planning on going to college. How could he, when their finances were so tight? And he didn’t want to burden his mom any longer than he had to, either. As soon as he had enough saved up, he was moving out. 

He was scared as all hell.

All the guards were gathering on the lawn to eat. The guard room was practically the size of a closet, and fitting everyone inside at once was basically impossible. Next to the grass, the lawn chairs and loungers were stacked haphazardly, recently pulled from inside the bathhouse. Melto and Tim/Tom were grabbing chairs off the stacks, setting them up for the girls, who were twittering amongst themselves. 

Naturally, no one set anything up for Jonathan; the number of chairs to guards was exactly two off. Balancing his plate in one hand and holding his pop between his arm and chest, Jonathan reached down to pick up a chair, when he noticed that Sock was standing awkwardly beside him. 

Oh, right. Two off. 

Jonathan hesitated for a few seconds. Would it be too forward to offer help? It wasn’t like he actually knew this kid all that well. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to get to know him, either. 

Then again, none of his former classmates were going to suddenly offer much in the way of friendship after nothing but detached radio silence for four years. 

“Hey.” Jonathan held out his plate and drink to Sock. “Hold these and I’ll get chairs?” There was something about the way Sock looked at him at that moment that made Jonathan’s stomach tighten up--confusion, mixed with mild disbelief, and some other emotion, fleeting beneath everything else, that he couldn’t quite place. 

“Okay.” Jonathan released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, forked over his food to Sock, and scooped up two chairs, settling them next to each other on the grass, a safe distance from the other guards. “You sure you don’t need help?”

“Nah, I got it.” Taking his plate back from Sock, he sat down and started eating immediately. Who knew doing nothing but walking all day could make you so tired?

“So, um.” Shit. Conversation. Chew, swallow, look interested. “Your name’s Jonathan, right?”

“Yep.” 

Sock sighed in relief. “Oh, thank god. I’m really bad with names. The first month I can’t remember anything.”

“Sock, right?” The smaller boy nodded, happily munching away on a slice of cheese pizza. “Well, it’s memorable, I’ll give you that.”

“Pssh. That’s not even my real name, either.” To Jonathan’s raised eyebrow, he replied, “And I’m not telling you my actual name. You’ll have to find that out for yourself, hot stuff.” The second eyebrow followed the first, and Sock slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh, god. Sorry. Sorry, sorry.”

“Um,” Jonathan searched for the appropriate response, mouth suddenly feeling very dry. “It’s okay? I guess.”

“Sorry, it just slipped out! Well, it’s not like I was thinking about how you look or how attractive you might be and I’m gonna. Shut up now.” His voice petered out towards the end, and Sock busied himself with eating again. 

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Jonathan resorted to Standard Questions. “So. How old are you?”

“Hm?” Sock’s head shot back up, as if he hadn’t expected Jonathan to still be interested in talking. “Twenty-one.”

“What?” Jonathan raked his eyes up and down Sock’s small frame, from his ridiculous hair to his skinny legs. “I thought you were younger than me!”

“Well, how old are you?”

“Eighteen.” Sock struggled to restrain a giggle and a smile, and Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“No, no, it’s fine! So you really are a Fish, then.” Seeing Jonathan’s confusion, Sock rushed to clarify. “A Fish. Freshie. Fresh meat.”

“If you say so, man.” 

“I do say so! I’ve worked here for two summers.” Sock paused in taking a drink of his water. “Well, three. The first one was a fluke.”

“What does that mean?”

“You see that blonde girl over there?” He pointed away towards the opposite end of the lawn, where someone was tossing weeds out a flowerbed. “That’s Jojo. She works night maintenance. Has for the last three years.” Lowering his hand when Jojo stood up, Sock continued. “She hates me.”

“Why?”

“My first summer here, I tried doing morning maintenance. I was very bad at it and she’s never forgiven me.”

“C’mon. Couldn’t have been that bad. Right?”

“Uh, well. Let’s just say that the specific incident she hates the most involved a lot of toilet paper, duct tape, and an overflowing sink.” 

Jonathan surprised even himself with his laughter. It felt good; it wasn’t the forced chuckle he’d perfected in high school. It was genuine and bubbling and triggered a responding wash of giggles from Sock. The foreign feeling of a smile stretching across his face was the best one he’d had in a while, followed up only by the vague, happy squirm of his stomach when one of Sock’s hands brushed against his own.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things
> 
> 1\. Jojo's job is my job and I can safely say that anyone who fucks up the park is on my shit list  
> 2\. Tentative title for multi-chap fic: 'The First Ten Dates'  
> 3\. If I do use this as a prequel/introduction to a longer fic I will expand it considerably


	7. Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living on Luna isn't all that easy, but change is coming, for better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha this is so late it's not even funny
> 
> I also feel hella awkward since no one did much for this prompt?? >.>
> 
> Anyway: by 'future', I mean, 'in the year mumbledy-mumbledy, Sock and Jonathan fell in love on the moon.'

Sock strained as he pushed in the last drawer, sighing when the bed clicked into place at the back of the freezer. Even in the reduced gravity of the moon, a man like Mr. Simmons was awfully heavy. He hadn’t known Mr. Simmons that well--he’d worked up in the computer tower, after all, and those people hardly ever came down for anything besides food--but he could work up a little bit of sympathy for the man. 

Just a little, though. Working in the morgue for five years had toughened him up that much, at least. 

Today had been particularly busy, not that Sock was complaining. Two deaths in one week was unusual, but at least it kept him busy doing things besides sharpening Dr. Brenner’s scalpels. When he’d taken this Job, he hadn’t known it would involve so much waiting for bad things to happen. For example, the other body he’d examined today had been the Hayes’ two-year-old boy, who had broken his neck after tripping over a ledge out on the Arago Crater. His mother and father had carried his body for almost three days before they reached the hospital. 

Compared to the grief of two young parents, Mr. Simmons was practically negligible. He’d had a heart attack in his sleep and left behind a family down on Earth, who were eagerly awaiting the return of his body.

But they weren’t getting it today, Sock thought as he stripped the gloves from his hands. Time was a relative concept up on Luna, as the inhabitants affectionately called it, but quitting time was quitting time, and after eight hours in the sterile lab, Sock was more than ready to head home. He started squirming into his suit when he heard the airlocks begin to glide open. Shoot, Jonathan was early. Trying to hurry, he started hopping around the room on one foot, cursing the stubborn fabric of his pants.

By the time a certain blond teenager stepped through the third lock, Sock had successfully tangled himself up in the legs of his suit. Jonathan didn’t even say anything; all it took was the removal of his helmet to reveal a look of pure confused amusement for Sock to start blushing furiously. 

“Shut up.” Finally, he got both legs into the suit and pulled the material up his torso. Jonathan lazily swung his helmet down to rest on his hip and strode over, pecking Sock on the forehead.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t need to.” Zipping up the suit, Sock stood up carefully on his tiptoes to plant a solid kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. “Grab my helmet, hot stuff?”

Once he was suited and packed up, Sock slapped the lights off. In the third airlock, both boys slid their helmets on, and Sock turned on his short-wave radio. “So how was Work today?” Up on Luna, where the colonies were isolated into craters, everyone who was able was required to take on a Job. As Providence, their colony manager, liked to say: “Everybody has to get along, and everybody has a Job to do.” People who didn’t volunteer to Work were usually forced into the Jobs that no one else wanted. Call it an incentive to take an early interest in a career. 

Jonathan had cheated the system by volunteering to take a Job nobody wanted to do (garbage disposal) and enjoyed eight hours of alone time every day. Sometimes, Sock envied him. Other times, like now, as Jonathan recounted finding a nice pile of vomit in a waste canister, he was just fine working in the hospital. 

They exited the last airlock and turned for home. It was about five kilometers back to the colony proper, and, as always, Sock felt a little guilty about Jonathan walking all the way out to the morgue and all the way back. As always, the feeling dissipated when Jonathan reached over and grabbed Sock’s hand. Without a doubt, this was the best part of Sock’s day, every day. He curled his fingers between Jonathan’s and looked forward to home.

At home, the gloves could come off, along with the damn helmet that was blocking his view of Jonathan’s dumb, gorgeous face. 

Granted, in a few days they’d have to lift the polarizing layer on their visors, anyway. The New Moon was approaching, after all, and that meant the constant glare of sunlight reflecting off the Lunar dust would disappear. New Moons were dangerous, though; without sunlight, everything got very dark. Even the most expert of hikers could get lost or hurt if they didn’t have a guide light. Sock had seen enough evidence of that laying up in the morgue. 

At least this month Jonathan would keep a close eye on him, since the last time they’d had a New Moon, Sock had tripped over a rock during the walk home, crashing into the taller boy and sending them both careening off course. He’d gotten an earful that day, from multiple people, not the least of whom was Jonathan himself. After a conversation that included more glares than actual words, they’d sat on the couch and just cuddled, skin to skin, the way Sock liked it.

Jonathan liked it too, although he’d probably never say as much. The only way Sock could tell was because he could feel the blond’s pulse move rapidly against his own. 

They’d started dating about a year ago, although they had known each other for longer. Jonathan was the first people Sock really became friends with in the Maskelyne Colony, and it wasn’t too long before he’d developed a crush on the older boy. A few things had stood in the way of their relationship--Jonathan’s nervousness about dating a boy, and Sock’s two-year transfer to the Plinius Colony, among them--but the major problem had never been distance, or gender or age. No, it was origin. Jonathan was a born-and-raised Lunanite, and Sock had spent the first eleven years of his life on Mars. The sheer force of culture shock should’ve prevented Sock from finding any friends on Luna, much less a boyfriend.

Sock’s parents were still on the Red Planet, terraforming. Although they loved him--at least, they constantly said so--they had been oddly eager to ship him off to Luna as part of an exchange program. Really, he couldn’t blame them. They probably just wanted to be alone together, like newlyweds.

That was a dangerous path of thought, and Sock stopped it in its tracks.

“So today we got the Call, right?”

“If they didn’t fake us out again, yeah.”

“What was the hold up last night, anyway? Meph seemed kinda nervous.”

Jonathan shrugged, not that the motion was clear under his suit. “Who knows? Probably another war.”

Every week, Luna and Mars had a Satellite Call with Earth. It was a pretty serious affair, considering the number of messages that had to be relayed from one planetoid to another. But the last two nights, Earth had been backing out. Sock could imagine the frustrations of the Colony leaders back on Mars; communications had always been made difficult by conflicting orbits, and the time window for a clear signal between Earth and Mars was quickly closing. 

“Oh, Earth.” Sock looked over the horizon, where the birthplace of humanity sat, silent and still and blue. “You’re awfully nice to look at, but could you stop throwing hissy fits every ten seconds?” That drew a soft laugh out of Jonathan, even as Sock mentally apologized to all the poor souls who were dying today.

In the years after the Second Space Race (when had the first one happened?), Earth had become more and more contentious and irrational. And Earthlings solved their problems the only way Earthlings knew how: by throwing explosives at each other. Sometimes, the governments fought, sometimes other groups did. Gods knew there were enough radical sects on Earth with enough firepower to blow up the Solar System nine times over. Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, Sock would look out the double-paned window of his dorm room and count the bright flashes of the bombs going off, ticking off on his fingers how many new dead there might be. 

“I hope my parents replied this time.” Sock felt his boyfriend’s hand twitch at the mention of the message they’d sent out to Mars five months ago. “C’mon, Jonathan,” Sock teased, bumping his shoulder carefully against the taller boy, “My parents will approve it! It’s probably just taking a while to find them.”

“You think?” The dormitories of the Colony were coming into view now, and Sock risked a little skip over the stony ground.

“I know so! And if they don’t--which they won’t,” he added quickly, feeling another twitch of fingers, “--we can just wait until my birthday! It’s not too far away.”

“I know, I know.” Jonathan released Sock’s hand in favor of casually draping an arm over his shoulders. “Just wanna move in, that’s all.”

Sock sighed, shaking his head. There were some awfully dumb rules up on Luna, and the one giving the most grief now was the minimum age for Independent Living. Seventeen? Really? Out on Mars, he’d known fourteen-year-olds who went on terraforming expeditions all on their own. But no, it’s Luna, and you can’t move in with your boyfriend until you’re both ‘adults’.

Until then, the only thing that could save him was his parent’s permission. They'd sent out the request back in February, after Jonathan’s seventeenth birthday. So far: no response. 

“I’m looking forward to it.” Sock replied, distractedly. There were some new spots of light playing over Earth’s continents, in rapid succession. What were they doing over there? “I can’t wait to see all those muscles you’ve been building up.” His wink was unseen, as was Jonathan's responding scowl.

“Okay, first of all, they’re not that great, and second, you’ve seen them before.” Sock snorted, turning back towards Earth, and waited for Jonathan to get the hint. “Oh, gods. Unless you meant--”

His words were cut off by a sudden, harsh gasp from Sock.

“What?” In the silence, Jonathan started to panic. “What? Sock!”

Sock’s reply was weak. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“There was a really big one, just now.”

“A big what? Where?”

“Bomb.” Sock pointed out towards the sphere of blue.

“So? There are bombs all the time out there.”

“Not like that.” Sock leaned into Jonathan’s body, seeking something to support himself on. “Jonathan, that must’ve cover an entire continent.”

Through the headset, Sock could almost hear Jonathan’s jaw clenching in consideration. “Let’s just get home for now. We’ll tell Meph about it tonight.”

Nodding in agreement, the two boys resumed their route to the Colony. Looking back out to Earth, Sock’s stomach turned at the faintly-burning edges of the new Fall-Out Zone.

\------

Dinner was oddly quiet.

By the time the two boys had arrived back at the Colony, de-suited, and walked through the tunnels to the Dining Hall, Sock’s nerves had calmed considerably. He even suggested to Jonathan that maybe the flash of light had been a trick of the sun. It was plausible; the hushed tension of the Dining Hall unsettled any comfort the theory gave. 

Not that everyone was quiet--no, there were 120 people living in the Maskelyne Colony; total silence was impossible. Especially considering that fifteen of those people were under the age of ten. Well, now fourteen, since the Hayes kid was in the morgue.

Jonathan’s mother, who worked in the kitchens, waved as they walked over into the food line. “Did something happen? Everyone’s jumpy tonight.” Her tone was casual, but the crease between her eyebrows betrayed her anxiety. Sock shot a questioning look towards his boyfriend--how to proceed?

“Not sure.” Jonathan took the food she offered him and passed it over to Sock. “We’ll probably find out later.”

“Right, I heard Providence and Meph finally got Earth to stick around for the Call.” Sock breathed in relief and felt Jonathan relax, incrementally. If the Satellite Call went through, that meant things couldn’t be too bad.

During dinner, they took their usual seats at the far end of the second table, listening to Jojo, one of the Teaching Assistants, try to convince an ornery child to eat his Reconstituted Meat Product. Sock giggled when she almost swore, and her glare almost burned through the back of his head.

What was that old saying? Oh, right. ‘If looks could kill.’ 

Jonathan intervened, before either Sock or Jojo could say something sharp. “Jojo, when’s Lil getting back?”

Jojo’s cheeks flushed a bit at the mention of her crush, but she answered the question calmly enough. “She’s already here. They found the craft.” Lil, a Lunanite about Jonathan’s age, was part of a search-and-recovery team. Most of the time, she was out of the Colony; the rest of the time she spent flirting with Jojo. “It was a Mars transport.” Her eyes flashed briefly over to Sock when she mentioned Mars. 

“Anything interesting?”

“Not really. The supplies we were expecting back in May.” She leaned over conspiratorially and muttered, “Lil thinks the pilots got lost or something.”

Sock restrained himself from rolling his eyes. One of the most annoying things Lunanites did was tiptoe around the subject of death. In particular, there was an unspoken rule that you should never speak ill of the dead. On Mars, you could say whatever you pleased about anyone, dead or alive. Truth be told, that was what he missed the most about Mars: the unbridled honesty of every single person you met. 

He started missing it acutely during the meeting after dinner. Mephistopheles, the sub-manager, kept throwing empathetic looks his way during the assembly. Like Sock, Mephistopheles was a Martian by birth, and relatively new to Luna. And also like Sock, he was becoming quite frustrated with Providence’s hesitating explanations.

“Well, it’s not good news. But it’s not all bad, either! There were plenty of messages from Mars.”

Sock saw Mephistopheles huff, open his mouth, and snap it shut again when Providence glared at him.

“I know that some of you saw the...flash this evening.” Providence started picking at her fingernails, a nervous habit that often resulted in bleeding cuticles. “And, well. Earth is...going through some difficult times, right now.” She paused again, and this time Sock actually did roll his eyes. Jonathan pinched his arm for that. 

Suddenly, Meph spoke up. “The flash was a bomb. Nuclear. The glow you’ll see tonight is the fallout.” The sheer look of panic on Providence’s face was echoed by many of the adults in the crowd. Hastily, she tried to sugar-coat Mephistopheles’ interjection. 

“Yes, um. The Call we received today might be called a uh. Farewell message.” 

“Really? ‘Cuz I’d call it a suicide note.” Meph jerked in his chair, mouthing an ‘ow’ at Providence. 

“If you’re going to keep interrupting, maybe you’d like to field questions afterwards?” Her tone was dripping with sickly-kind anger, and Meph held up in hands in defeat. 

“Sorry. Just trying to move things along.” 

Across the room, Sock saw Dr. Brenner slowly raise his hand. “Who did it?” 

Meph and Providence glanced at each other, waging a silent war over who would have to be the bearer of bad news. Meph lost. “We’re not entirely sure. It was a radical religious sect, but we have no idea who they were or where they were.” He looked at Providence, seeking permission to elaborate. “They were operating under the radar. They built a bomb. A big one. And now the place where the Eurasian continent used to be is probably filling up with seawater.” The last comment earned him a smack to the back of the head. 

Sock felt Jonathan shift beside him. Surprisingly, he was raising his hand. Most days, Jonathan liked to lay low, slipping by unnoticed. Biting his lip, Sock waited. This must be important. Providence nodded in their direction. 

“Are they sending anything our way?” There was a collective intake of air in the room, and Providence and Meph rushed to answer. In almost perfect unison, they said:

“No.”

The air was released, and Jonathan sank back into his chair, wrapping an arm around Sock’s shoulders. Sock nuzzled into the taller boy’s side, disapproving glares from the older Lunanites be damned. 

After a few more questions, the general assembly was disbanded. Groups of people talked quietly, occasionally sending someone up to the front to ask a question. If the assembly had been on Mars, everyone would have been shouting at once, trying to get the full story. But since this was Luna, answers would spread through conversations. It was one of the few things about Lunanite assemblies Sock actively liked (or, at least, his eardrums did). 

However, he had a question that wouldn’t be answered through gossip. Detangling himself from Jonathan’s grip, he stood up. “I’m gonna--”

“Sock.” Jonathan was still holding his hand, tethering the smaller boy to him. “You can go back to Mars, if you want.”

Sock gaped for a moment before finding words. “Why would I do that?”

“We’re closer to Earth. It’d be safer on Mars.”

“Providence said that they’re not sending any bombs out here.”

“I know. I just don’t want you to get hurt if you stay because of me.” 

Heaving a sigh, Sock slapped his hands to the sides of Jonathan’s face, smooshing the blond’s cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” Letting go, he started turning away, then added, “Except to the other end of the Dining Hall to ask Providence a question.”

With that, he left Jonathan behind to talk to his mother. Approaching the front, Sock waited--a bit impatiently--for Providence to finish reassuring Mrs. Matsuoka that they would all be just fine, don’t worry, it’ll be alright. When she finally finished, he stepped up, opened his mouth, and was immediately interrupted.

“Oh, Sock! Perfect timing. Lil, can you bring that package?” Leaning against the wall behind the table, Lil nodded and darted out into the hallway. “The recovery team found the supply ship from Mars that was due back in May, did you hear? And we found this,” Lil returned, handing over a bright yellow envelope to Providence, “in the cargo compartment.” She held it out to Sock.

His eyes went wide, reading his name--his full name, Napoleon Maxwell Sowachowski--written out in his mother’s curling handwriting. “Can--can I open it?”

Providence barked out a laugh. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

Carefully, Sock broke the seal on the package. Inside was another envelope, addressed to Providence, and a letter for himself. Handing the envelope over to Providence, he busied himself with reading. 

_Dear Napoleon,_

_Permission granted! Lunanites are so strange. Your father and I started living together when we were only thirteen, you know. Well, anyway, I’m sending a separate letter to your Colony manager, just so she has it in writing. You can never be too careful._

_I’m very happy for you and Jonathan. He sounds like a nice boy and I hope you find living together easy and comfortable. Living with someone can be difficult, so don’t try and pick fights. Consult us before you do anything rash, like get married. Bring him over to Mars so we can meet him, first, please._

_Your father is out on an expedition to Lomonosov with your Uncle Robert, so he isn’t here to deliver his blessings. Don’t worry; I’m sending enough for the both of us._

_I will end this letter now, as the courier is leaving in an hour._

_Best wishes and all my love,_

_Your mother, Elvira_

_P.S. Use protection!_

Sock looked at Providence when he was done reading, not even trying to hide his smile. Luckily, neither was she. “So, Sock. When did you want to move in?”

Breathing out a laugh, he folded his letter. “As soon as possible, please.”

“All right. I’ll get the paperwork in order, and you can sign it in the morning.” With that, she ruffled a hand through his hair and returned to the other Colony members.

Walking back to his seat, Sock could feel his hands shaking. He almost wanted to cry, except that Jonathan was looking his way now.

Disapproving glares be damned. He started running, practically flinging himself onto Jonathan’s lap, and started showering his boyfriend’s face in kisses.

“What the--mmf!” Sock covered Jonathan’s lips with his own, relishing the feel of the blond slowly relaxing and returning the kiss, nibbling at Sock’s lower lip. Hands came up to cradle the back of Sock’s head, and in return he draped his arms around Jonathan’s neck.

A loud “AHEM” broke them apart. Jojo was standing close by, trying to look both intimidating to Sock and adorable to Lil, who was trying desperately to tug the corners of her mouth back down. Both of them were failing miserably.

“So what’s this about?” Jonathan asked, a little breathlessly. Sock held up the letter, triumphantly.

“I told you my parents would come through.”

“You mean--” Sock nodded. “And they--” Another nod. “And we--” Finally, he just laughed.

“Yes! Yes to everything.” 

He enjoyed the brilliance of Jonathan’s smile for half a second before being pulled back down into another kiss. 

Jojo would have groaned, except that Lil was waggling her eyebrows suggestively, and any complaints she had went flying out the window to be replaced with stammering giggles.

\------

Later that night, outside the Combs apartment, Sock stood up on his tiptoes to give Jonathan one last goodbye kiss. Jonathan’s mother smiled from the living room, and Sock waved to her before she disappeared into her bedroom.

“So, besides the obvious good news,” Jonathan murmured into his ear, “what did you talk to Providence about?”

Sock’s head shot up, narrowly missing Jonathan’s jaw. “Fuck!”

“What?”

“I forgot to ask what I should do with Mr. Simmons!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback on this one is appreciated, since it's kinda a monster :)


End file.
